Negligence
by bluelily3
Summary: Set 7 years into the future, this is the story as told by Nell, daughter of the Lord of the Negaverse, Negaduck himself. After discovering her identity, she tries to find meaning in her life. Learning (the extra hard way) that heritage doesn't have to define you, she tells the chronicles of how she met and befriended Gosalyn and Darkwing Duck. Rated M for language and violence.
1. Storm

Failure to take proper care in doing something. Yep. That's what it means. That's my name. Well, technically, my name is Nell. Short for Nellie. But...ew. The short version of Negligence is Negs. And that's my father. Crime lord of the century. Scourge of the Negaverse. Dark? Yes. Violent? Most definitely. Lovable? HELL no. Did I want to find him and meet him? Oh, FUCK yes.

But let's rewind a bit, shall we? How about back to the day I met...her. Gosalyn Mallard. That girl is… well, I hate to say it, but sort of my savior. I met her at the record store.

There was a storm out. A ferocious, dark, hot storm. It was exquisite. The store was slow, because...duh. Who in their right mind would be out in that crap? I was just coming around the counter, a pack of cigs in hand. I had a mighty need for a puff. I hadn't had one all day, and I could feel a "rager" coming on. Said rager was building like that hot storm outside. Especially since it was fueled with the very fact that I now knew _why_ I got these random violent urges. It also explained my dark red eyes… I had only found out a week before that Negaduck was my father. How, you ask? I mean, shouldn't something like that be kept a secret? Buried beneath the Sand of Time? Just left to moulder in another dimension? _I_ almost was… But I digress.

I had found out from my mother. Magica De Spell. An old crone. I don't even know how old, but dang, those bags under her eyes are a boatload of proof that she's no spring duck. Anyway, she found me. She told me. And I was still wrestling with the idea. Especially after I realized that she had told me, but _not_ my father. _That_ was something I would have to do myself. Thanks, dear old mom. That didn't make me feel like a pawn at all. Not to mention, while I _have_ been known for my bravery, I didn't have cajones of steel. For duck's sake.

So, yeah. I was _really_ hankering for a smoke right about then. The storm was about ready to explode...and then something actually did. All the windows of my shop blew in one go. Glass everywhere. I ducked behind the counter, feeling a hot rush of backdraft. _Who the fu-_ I grabbed for my handgun, a Heritage Rough Rider Single-Action Rimfire revolver. Because yes, I loved guns. And yes, I loved them _before_ I found out about my own heritage. Then I saw her. She hurled herself through the glass and rolled to the floor in one fluid motion. All dressed in red. The Scarlet Shadow. Because Gosalyn wasn't just Gosalyn when I first met her. She was a superhero. And on her tail was _him._ Negaduck. It was like I'd summoned him with my own mind. Only I hadn't. Because I'm not stupid. And I'm pretty sure I didn't want to meet him _this_ way. Especially since my adopted dad wasn't done paying for his insurance on the record store. He was gonna be pissed.

I jumped up from behind the desk with my revolver. My hand trembled (dammit) and I really wanted to shout out my indignity. But seeing him there, fire surrounding him, artillery in both hands, cape sweeping, eyes gleaming... I was terrified. And exhilarated. _THIS_ was my father. I felt like... Well, like I'm sure Luke Skywalker felt during that fatal scene with Darth Vader. Now I just hoped that I wouldn't lose a hand.  
The Scarlet Shadow stood in front of me.

"Get down." She said. Her voice was calm and full of authority. She had this. I wanted to nod and just do what I was told, but I was never good at that.

"Wait just a damned minute! This is _my_ store! You can't just come in here and blow shit up!" I held my revolver in front of me, not even registering that it was pointed at a cardboard cutout of David Bowie in all his fab glam. Scarlet turned around and looked at me like I was nuts. Negaduck's eyes widened, then they narrowed. He studied me for a moment longer than I would have liked. Because… I'll have to admit, I do look a bit like him. I have his eyes (even rather heavy brows for a girl). Not just the shape or the color, but the fiery smolder, like a banked fire. The hunger for violent adventure in the dark. And I think he saw that. We never had to exchange a word. Even Scarlet looked back and forth between us. After waiting for Negaduck to say something, (he just stood there, sort of _panting_. Bloodlust, I assume) she cleared her throat, almost awkwardly.

"Sorry, but you need to stay out of the way. This is gonna get ugly." Her hand pressed against my chest, and my heart skipped a beat. She really was amazing. This whole situation was making my blood burn through me like never before. All I wanted was for the action to kick into full gear. Even if I ended up bleeding. See, up until then, my life had been pretty damn boring. I had just moved out of my parents place (turned 18 in September) and lived above my garage. I spent a lot of time in there, making and breaking things. I spend a lot of time being alone. I needed this. I needed it like the forgotten cigarettes in my pocket.

So, like the lunatic I am, I pushed her hand away and hauled myself up onto the sales desk, my revolver pointed straight at my father's masked head. His scarlet fedora shifted slightly in the wind that blew in from the naked window frames. The gale outside had blown up, and hail was pelting against his back. However, he was oblivious to any force of nature. Here I was, taller than both of them on the desk, but he only straightened his spine and met me with those eyes. It was like looking into a forge. His teeth broke free of his beak with a growl.

"You've got a lot of brass, girl. Do you even know who the _hell_ you are pointing that gun at?"

Scarlet jumped on the desk next to me, leaning in close.

"Are you crazy? Give me the gun. I'll handle this. Just-"

"Give you my _gun?_ " I didn't even bother to keep my voice down. "Are you freakin' out of your mind?" (I realized the irony of this statement as the two continued to stare at me like I had crabs crawling out of my ears.) Then Negaduck chuckled. It was like a stone grinding against glass.

"I'd do as she says, girl." He brought up both his arms. One held a monsterous gun that resembled a canon, the other a blow torch. I was...less terrified than I should have been. The longer I looked at those weapons, the more I wanted to use them myself. A hunger built inside me. Which was what actually scared me in the end. Not him, but myself.

The crime lord cocked his gun and ignited the torch. His grin would have sent the devil running. I lowered my revolver (her name's Bonnie) agonizingly slow, keeping eye contact with him the whole time. I could feel the heat from the torch, but I made my squint look like a cynical narrowing of the eyes. That was when he shot at me. It happened so fast, I barely registered what was happening. The monstrous gun vibrated the whole building, and I catapulted off the desk. Scarlet took me with her, her body hovering over mine. She smelled like fire and rain. My heart kicked hard against my chest. I had a total lady-boner for this entire scenario. Best two minutes of my life. Even if my biological father just shot at me. Kind of a ball-buster.

I tried to crawl out from under Scarlet, but she had her hands wrapped around my wrists. I flushed red. I had been alone for so long, and to have someone so close… She looked me up and down before sighing.

"We're okay. He only shot the desk…"  
"But why would he spare…?"

"Don't move, okay? He's gonna torch the place and-"  
"Oh, _hell_ no! Not my records-"

"If you promise to stay put, I'll save it for ya." She pressed her face close to mine and winked at me. "I mean, who doesn't appreciate a good vintage LP, am I right?" I nodded, noticing that her breath smelled like watermelon gum. Yeah, okay. In case you haven't noticed by now, let me make it clear. I'm bi, and a bit far gone on Gos. Even before I had met her, I followed her career as The Scarlet Shadow, along with her father's as Darkwing Duck. I never knew that any of it was related until a bit later. Anyway, back to the explosions and flames.

Scarlet stood up, pulling an arrow from her quiver. She nocked it, concentrated for a split-second, then released. It flew past him, lodging itself into the wall. His eyes were focused on the flames spewing from his torch, and he was laughing to himself. He had no connection to my shop, but he still reveled in setting it ablaze. I had heard that he was a notorious arsonist.

The arrow released a canister of water on the flames. He spun around, and growled. Then his eyes landed on her. He moved closer, walking straight through the remaining flames.

"Heh, heh. Pretty brave of you, _Scarlet._ " He spit her heroine name out like it was it was a cruel joke.

"Going toe-to-toe with me. _All alone._ Where's dear 'ol dad, huh?" He chuckled again, then pulled his own quiver from behind his cape.

"Ha. You think I'd tell you?" She stood tall, completely unafraid. There was even a twisted smile on her beak. I blinked. _Dear 'ol dad? Negaduck knew Scarlet's father?_ Back then, I knew so little. However, even the news that Negaduck had found out Darkwing's secret identity was not public news. And how he had ever found out about Gosalyn is still beyond me. Drake doesn't like to talk about either subject.

Negaduck pulled out a tremendously huge bow (where was he even hiding it?) and yanked back the string, his arm muscles rippling with the effort. Attached to it was something that looked very explosive. _My dad's store…_ was all I could think. _She said she'd save it, but I can't let her do all the dirty work._ That's when I thought of the most dangerous, ridiculous thing I've ever done. I pushed myself up with all my strength, then stood directly in his line of sight. I remembered how he's shot _at_ me and Scarlet before, but not _into_ us. There was _something_ holding him back. Scarlet gasped and slid toward me. I pushed out my hand and she gave me that look again. Only this time there was a fear in her eyes. If I was insane, I was insane in a very dark way.

"What the- Get… you crazy…" Negaduck was rendered speechless. I chose that moment to drop the bomb on him. I pulled my revolver out from under my belt and pointed it at his arrow. He was starting to shake from the tension.

"You shoot that, and you're going with it."

"You… wouldn't dare…" He fought the shakiness in his voice. My eyes never left him. Dark red meeting dark red. _He knows. He has to._ I blew my bangs out of my eyes. Black from Magica. White from him.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" I cocked my gun, then brought it to my beak. He flinched very slightly, and a sound came from him, a warning. I kissed the warm metal, then pointed it back at his arrow.

"Like father, like daughter."

Which was a big mistake. He let out a strangled gasp, letting go of the arrow as all the strength was shocked out of him.

R.I.P. vintage LP's.


	2. Blood

And who chose that very moment to show up and make things _extra_ complicated? I'll give you just one guess. Riiight. Goddamned Darkwing Duck. Whom I had never met, but kind of adored. See, we had a history. He'd saved my adopted father in a bank robbery/shootout, and old Hal, (my bear dad. Yes, my adopted parents are bears. Long story) had never stopped talking about him since. I was about 5 at the time, and very impressionable. So we followed his career together. Watched all the news stories. Read his comic books, saved paper clippings. The works. I even have his autograph on a 5X7 glossy. I really dig those smug AF eyebrows he's got.

But really, the right time for him to show up was totally not then. Scarlet and I had managed to survive the brunt of the blast, but we were deaf and scratching around in the rubble like little baby chicks. So yeah, we _could_ have used a hero right now. But I was looking for Negaduck. Because… REASONS. The face that he'd made right before he'd let go of the bowstring was burned into my mind. Along with that strangled gasp he'd made. I swear I'd heard the word " _No"_ riding on it. So… "No" because he'd been about to blow away his own flesh and blood? Or because he had a daughter to begin with, and the very idea revolted him to the core of his being? I'd go for the second one, though it pains me a bit to say it.

Anyway, while we were scrambling around, bleeding and pretty useless, (and I'd just got a glimpse of Negaduck's black cape) there was a crash as the glass door banged open. Really, dude? The windows had NO GLASS. And he used the DOOR. Dramatic license much? But there was no blue smoke. No "I am the Terror…" He was looking for his little Gosalyn. Not that I knew that at the time… I just thought he'd seen the explosion and wanted to investigate. That and the little matter of his arch nemesis, Negaduck. Exploding things and stuff. He scurried around, making himself rather useful. He used his cape to put out the flames, propped up parts of the wall that were falling down, and even pushed some records out of the way. The guy is a wizard. I tried to stay hidden. I wanted to get out of there, but not as bad as I wanted to find Negaduck. I wasn't sure what I would do or say to him, but there it was. I crawled along the wooden floor, glad to know that the entire place hadn't blown up. Scarlet was behind me, but when she saw Darkwing, she was distracted.

"Darkwing!" She pushed herself onto her feet.

"G...Scarlet!" He glided towards her, wrapping her in his billowing cloak. _Whoa,_ I thought. _Partners is right. Are they as close as Batman and Robin? Because…_ I shook my head in wonder, thinking of the term "daddy" in a much less innocent way that what it really was. I was too deaf to hear their whispered conversation, but it made the pit of my stomach tighten. He sounded concerned like a real dad, though. I had a dad, but he had never really understood me. I was a problem child from the beginning, and I still hadn't forgiven him from shoving me into a boarding school. I'm a dropout, btw. It would be amazing to have someone love you so unconditionally like that. To really, _really_ understand you. Even if your grievances went _way_ beyond sneaking cigarettes in the girl's bathroom.

I crawled between the rows of records, trying hard not to choke. A small part of me wanted to inhale. Like I said, I hadn't smoked all day. The fire was creeping towards me, and I checked the shelf letters. F-K. Well, great. There went the Foo Fighters through KISS. Suddenly, I heard a groan. It was deep and husky. Definitely Negaduck. I looked under the shelves and saw a thin rivulet of blood. It led to his foot. Which was still twitching. He looked like he was trying to crawl. I wondered how he could have gotten hurt worse than me and Scarlet. The bomb was aimed at us. It took out the wall behind us, and I vaguely remembered Scarlet using a cape. Explosion proof? Must've been. I tightened my courage around me like steel cord and slid under the shelf towards him. He coughed, holding onto his stomach. There was a deep red puddle dripping out of him. And laying next to it was his chainsaw. He must have lost his balance from the recoil of the bow, then somehow fell on it. Classic Darkwing clumsiness. But now was not the time to find it humorous. This was my father. And he was bleeding out. He coughed again, then noticed me. He swung his head around to face me, blood dribbling out of his beak. His eyes still held the same fire as before, but I could see them starting to dim. For some incredible reason, the very idea of that made my heart twist. He was devious. He was malicious. But he was still my father. And he was dying. As he looked at me, his eyelids dropped down. It might have seemed smug if he wasn't crawling in a puddle of his life blood.

Suddenly, my hearing came back. Scarlet's voice rang out over the sound of the fire, which was slowly receding.

"Hey! Cool Girl! Where are you? Can you hear me? I don't think she can hear me, Darkwing. I'm still sort of deaf from…"

"Well, we've still got to try. You said Negaduck was here too? We can't let him get away."

"I think he did. I don't see him. And he couldn't have been hurt in the explosion."

Negaduck wretched up more blood, gripping his stomach like a vice. His entire hand was bathed in red. He dropped his eyes away from me, then started laughing softly. The sound was harsh and self-deprecating.

"You've done it, girl… I think you've… murdered… me…" He choked on his blood, then slumped forward, his other arm giving out from under him. I pushed myself forward, grabbing hold of him. He was warm and cold at the same time. It was the worse sensation I'd ever felt.

"No… I didn't mean to. You fell… on…"

"Heh, heh… Killed by my own…" He was cut short by an explosive cough that sent blood everywhere. _Oh, God. This is so much worse than the movies._ I thought. Fighting against my very nature, I kept holding him.

"Hang on, Negaduck. Don't give up. You're too strong to go out this way…" I swallowed hard. "And… this is the _dumbest_ way to die. You don't want 'Nefarious Crime Lord a.k.a. Major Idiot' on your tombstone, do you?" He looked into my eyes, and I found a spark of amusement there. Or rage. Hey, whatever kept him going, right? He tried to sit up straight and pull himself away from me.

"I… I knew that magic bitch was...keeping something from me…" He whispered. "When I create something...I...like to know about it…" He blinked hard, and I told myself it was the fire drying his eyes out.

"So...you actually believe me?"

"Tch. Kid, I can tell. You've got...my damn...eyes…"

"But, I mean…"

He rolled his own eyes at me.

"Girl, just call for...help. I am _not_ fuckin' going out...this way…" And then for the first time, I smiled at him.

"Right." Then I called Darkwing and Scarlet over.

"You're his _what?_ " My childhood hero stood before me, his face stretched to an impossible length. His eyes were as big as dinner plates. We were at the hospital, and he sat on Scarlet's bed, sipping coffee. She and I had to be hooked up to oxygen, and they'd already wheeled away a very unconscious Negaduck to surgery. He was stable though, and I couldn't believe I'd already started worrying about him. I'd even dubbed him "N" in my head, since I couldn't bring myself to call him "dad" or even "father". But somehow, while he was laying on the floor of my record store, bleeding out, I had bonded with him. I didn't feel afraid around him. I actually felt like he understood me. And the very idea of that scared me to death. I didn't let people in that easily. Walls are built for a reason. Not to mention, those blood stains were gonna be _hell_ to scrub out. Which reminded me. I pulled out my phone.

"Yeah, he's my father."

"But... _how_?!" Darkwing stood up, and started pacing the floor.

"Magica De Spell." I mumbled, tapping on Hal's number.

" _MAGICA?_ But she would have had to, and _he_ would have… oh, _ew…"_ He shuddered, taking a few more swallows of coffee. Scarlet laughed, then coughed. He immediately turned his attention to her. I realized now that their relationship was definitely a father/daughter one. It was sweet. I wasn't jealous at all. *cough, cough* The phone on the other end rang. Dad would probably be in bed by now. I worked the late shift at the store. For some reason, he always thought that people would shop for records at night. I got about 6 customers from 7 to 11. So yeah...no. But I liked being there. Although now I might dread it. After it got all fixed up, I was going to have to look at that dark stain next to the Nine Inch Nails albums. How appropriate.

I held up a finger when Darkwing still babbled on.

"Hold on, man. I gotta break it to my dad about the store."

"You're...dad…?"

"Her adopted dad, D-Darkwing…" Scarlet smiled.

"Oh, gotcha." He was fanning his face with his fedora and I tried not to laugh as I heard Hal's groggy voice on the phone. The worst part about this was that I hadn't told either one of my parents that I'd found out who I really was yet. I didn't even think that they knew. Which would be...extremely awkward and surreal. At best.

"Hey, dad. Sorry to wake you. Don't uh... hate me?"

"Eh? Where are you? What time…"

It was just after midnight. I would have been home, tucked into my own dark, soft bed, surrounded by my red pillar candles with my Nickelback playlist lulling me to sleep. But _NO._ Tonight was the night I had to have a burning, bloody first meeting with my crime lord father, who almost died in my arms. Proud that his daughter had been the reason he was dying. Even though I _totally_ wasn't.

"It's just after midnight, dad. I'm not home though. I'm…" I looked over at Darkwing and Scarlet, who eyed me sympathetically. But I gathered my courage. This was my _easy_ dad. He was just a lawyer.

"I'm at the...hospital."

"WHAT? What happened, what did you do?"

"Wow, I'm glad you asked 'what happened' first that time."

"Glad to hear your tongue isn't injured."

"Yeah, no. But the store is…"

" _What happened to_ _ **Black Groove**_ _? What have you done?"_ I pulled the phone away from my ear, wincing. Suddenly, Darkwing stood up.

"*Ahem* May I?" He held his hand out for the phone. I could feel my eyes brighten. Perfect. This was about to get amazing. Unless my dad had a heart attack. _Then I guess I'll see him soon,_ I thought, somewhat morbidly. Let's not lose two dads in one night. Although I still refused to register Negaduck as dad, still thinking better of "N".

"Uh, Dad? There's someone who wants to talk to you."

"It had _better_ not be my insurance company. You _know_ I haven't paid in full yet, and they're gonna…"

"No, Dad. This is _so_ much better." Darkwing nodded at me courteously and gently took the phone from my bandaged hand.

"Hello Mr…?"

"Bruindale." I said, helpfully. "Hal Bruindale."

"Mr. Bruindale. Yes. This is Darkwing Duck…" He paused, letting my dad yell a bit.

"No, no, no. It's not a joke, good sir. I am indeed the 'Terror that Flaps in the Night.' And I must say, I owe you an apology. See, the fate of your record store wasn't- What was that? 'Black Grooves'. Oh, that's nice. I like that. Sounds dark and mysterious. Rock on! Anyway, the fate of it wasn't your daughter's fault. Who's was it, you say, well…" Then Darkwing proceeded to tell my dad about how notorious gang leader Negaduck battled The Scarlet Shadow in our shop and how he had blown a hole through it. He omitted the part about the bleeding out.

"Oh, but never fear, good citizen. See, I work for a secret agency. They are...how should I say... quite well endowed with money. So… repairing your rockin' record room should be no problem. We could even built a new one if you'd like…" He continued to babble on about property damage and repair costs. I lost focus from the conversation after a while, thinking about N in surgery. Would he live? I remembered the bloody gash in his stomach. It had been pretty deep. He'd definitely have a scar. I wondered if his feathers would even grow back under it. I kept wondering these things, until I realized that Scarlet was staring at me. I glanced over at her. She just smiled, but she looked pretty concerned.

I cocked my head to the side, a wordless 'What?'

"I'm just wondering… What you're going to do when your...uh...when Hal shows up to take you home?"

"Um...go home?" I ventured. She almost laughed.

"Yeah, but what about Negaduck?"

"What about him?" I shrugged. "I don't even know the guy, and he _did_ try to kill us." But she could see right through me. I remembered back to when I called her and Darkwing for help, and they found me holding Negaduck up, his blood seeping through the floorboards. He'd still had the ghost of a smile on his face. It was if he would have been happy to die like that. But I wouldn't let him. Scarlet could read something in my eyes that I couldn't hide. I looked down, studying the IV in my wrist. I heard the rustling of bedsheets as she leaned over.

"Here." She said softly. She handed me her phone. It was bright orange with yellow stars on it. Seemed kind of childish. How old was she? 16, at the oldest. I studied her number on the screen, and was about to grab my own phone, when I realized Darkwing still had it. He'd wandered out of the room, still prattling on to Hal. Scarlet noticed.

"Darkwing!" She yelled, then coughed violently. He appeared immediately.

"Oh, honey! I'm sorry." He patted her on the head. _No way those two were not father and daughter._ He pushed my phone back into my hand (the one not holding Scarlet's phone) and smiled.

"Well, that takes care of that. I got the money and the say-so to rebuild 'Black Grooves'. Boy, I love that name. It'll be bigger and better than before! It's the _least_ I can do. You shouldn't have had to go through all that, you poor girl." He patted my hand.

"Believe me," I smiled ironically. "I think this is just the beginning of my problems right now."

"Uh, yeah. About that. Are you going to be alright? How is the security at your parents house? Do you-?"

"Actually. I don't live with my parents anymore. I just turned 18. I live above my garage-"

"Wait a minute." He narrowed his eyes at me. "How are you older than…" He gestured at Scarlet. " I mean, Negaduck and Magica teamed up when she was nine-years-old and…"

"Darkwing…" Scarlet warned.

"Dude, what. You knew her when she was 9?" I asked, my eyes widening. "How young do you teach them, Darkwing?"

"Oh well, I…" He struggled for an explanation, just as I slid past the number screen on Scarlet's phone with my thumb. It exited out, showing a picture of a duck that really resembled Darkwing, next to a duck that _really_ resembled Scarlet. She had the same bright orange hair. They both wore masks, but their body types… I held up the phone, my eyebrow arching.

"Yeah, that's my dad." Smiled Scarlet. "Isn't he a cutie? He can't even watch horror movies without shrieking like a girl." It would have been believable if Darkwing hadn't glared at her. _Bingo._ But I decided not to push the issue. I handed the phone to him, and he handed it back to her. Then, he changed the subject in the most unsubtle way possible.

"So, Negaduck's really your dad, huh? Hoo-boy... What a mind job, huh?"


	3. Explode

I tried to visit him at the hospital the next day, but when I got there, he was already gone. The nurse at the desk said he was an unauthorized discharge, which...yeah. Made lots of sense. I couldn't imagine that he was someone who would feel at home in a hospital. Nobody liked them much anyway, (unless you worked there, and doctors were weirdos, if you asked me) but I could imagine that N was a total food-throwing, IV-ripping maniac that they just couldn't hold on to. I don't know how he did it, but I wasn't ruling out climbing out the window. Even though he was on the 23rd floor. Even though the glass was 3 inches thick. This was Negaduck we were talking about here. But I had to get in contact with him. Me and N needed to sit down and have a nice, long, heart-to-heart. Or we could go on a demolition spree. Whichever came first. Whatever happened, I needed to find him. And I had no idea where he lived.

Back then, the Negaverse was something next to nobody knew about. I could get a hold of my crone mother, but I had a better idea. Gosalyn. Or as I only knew her back then, Scarlet. She had given me her phone number, and I was about to use the hell out of it.

I dialed it, growling at my shaking finger. _Really, Nell? Take a chilly. I mean, what are you afraid of? Wait...don't answer that._ As I waited out the tones, my heart kicked up a notch. How was I gonna approach this? How does a conversation like this start? "Yo, girl. How's it hangin'? (Do you even ask girls that? Dumb.) This is Negaduck's deranged daughter, btw. You know, the one that you called 'cool girl' at the record store. The one who survived a rocket launcher with you at said record store? The one who owes you her life? Yeah, _that_ girl. So, hey, how do I find my manical father? Any ideas?" _God… I really hope she just knows why I called. That would make this_ _ **so**_ _much easier._

I heard her voice on the other end. Not "hello"? Not "what's up?". Nope, just "Scarlet Shadow here." So, she used this number for those who only knew her hero side? But that picture of her and her dad… She must have read the unknown number and known it was mine. After all, we hadn't exchanged numbers.

"Hey, yeah. This is...well. You don't even know my name, do you?"

"Naw, but I know your voice. Hey, there."

I could hear her smiling, but she sounded like she was busy, her tone breezy and informal.

"Hey. I got a question for you."

"Figures. Shoot." I could hear a clattering in the background, and she swore softly under her breath. Then I heard a high pitched voice in the background.

"Gosalyn! What are you… that was brand new!"

 _So...her real name was Gosalyn._ I smiled to myself, a secret smile. I listened as the voice in the background babbled on and on. No doubt about it. He was Darkwing Duck. Sure, the voice was a bit higher, but he was still as loaded as a dictionary. How did she expect me not to find out about this, giving me her phone number? Or, maybe she did. Maybe, as a daughter of a Darkwing (albeit a twisted, dark one) she saw me as a possible ally. Maybe even a friend? I tried not to indulge in that idea for too long. There was nothing I wanted more than a friend, even though I really hated to admit it. Through my teenage years, I managed to scare away most of the people that could have been close to me, and my parents chased away the rest. I had been alone for quite a while. Ditching boarding school and opening a garage kind of killed my social life.

"Sorry!" I heard her say.

"Sorry? What do you mean, 'sorry'? And hey, where are you going? Do you have any idea the trouble I went through to secure this delicate piece of...Gosalyn! Don't walk out on me while I'm talking to you, young lady!"

"I'm on the phone." She ground the words out. There was silence in the background.

"Oh. Well…*ahem* Carry on." I almost laughed out loud. Darkwing must have realized that whoever she was talking to might recognize his voice. Too bad Scarlet (or should I say Gosalyn) was too smart not to actually call him dad. But she didn't have to. I wasn't stupid either. And it didn't take a genius to piece together this little puzzle. I waited on the other line, listening as she went to a quiet place.

"Who was that?" I asked. There was no way she could expect me not to. Her answer would be interesting, to say the least.

"Oh, just Darkwing. We're preparing for a big case."

"He called you Gosalyn."

"Well, yeah. That _is_ my real name." She said it so casually I blinked. Then I rolled my eyes. Even if that was her real name, just telling me that didn't prove anything. But I could still look up information about her if I really wanted to.

"So, what's your question?"

"Well, I…" I shook my head, trying to clear it of all the other questions I had, focusing on one.

"I need to know where Negaduck lives."

"And you think I know that?" Her voice stayed on the same level, but she managed to sneak in some annoyance. I sensed it was part of her cover. I decided to play on her ego. I'd done my research; I knew that hers could be pretty big. However, she was too smart to be bribed or manipulated. Which was more than I could say for Darkwing.

"Well, you're the Scarlet Shadow, aren't you? I'm sure you keep info on all the villains."

"Sure do. But it's gonna cost ya." I flinched away from the phone. _Was this girl serious? What was she playing at?_

"What the hell...what do you want?" My tone dipped down into a dark place. I wanted this information pretty bad, and it pissed me off that she knew that.

"Nothing much. Just lunch. How 'bout tomorrow?"

"What?" _Was she asking me out? Okay, it was just lunch...not a date. CHILL NELL._

"Lunch. It won't kill ya to eat, right? Free food? Besides," She laughed, "I'm guessing you haven't eaten anything good in awhile, huh?" _Okay. How would she know that? My fridge was pretty sad, and I ate a lot of fast food, sometimes even gas station food. But how...?_ My instincts shifted to one that came pretty naturally to me. Suspicion.

"You been spying on me?" I growled.

"Oh, heck no. I just know things. See, if Negaduck is anything like Darkwing (and we both know they have similarities) than he doesn't eat much. They don't care of themselves very well."

"I don't really wanna know how you know that, but… okay. I'll have lunch with you."

"Cool. I'll text you his address then. Gotta warn you though. It's quite a trip."

"Oh, great. You mean he lives...out of the city?"

"You could say that."

I walked down the street, taking in the view. It was on the bad side of town, and I'd brought a couple of guns with me. I was confused as hell. She'd said he lived out of St. Canard, but the address she gave me was in the Old Haunt, which was the bad side of town. I'd been here quite a bit in my youth, and I even recognized the exotic pet shop when I saw it. It was boarded up, and had been for years. Plans were made to rebuild it into something else, but Old Haunt was pretty ghetto, and once a place closed down, it sort of just stayed that way. Gosalyn's text had the address and below it she'd written the cryptic message, "Where you're at when you're in trouble." I had no idea what the hell that meant, but I guessed I'd figure it out. I walked around to the back of the shop, climbing through the old broken window. This used to be one of the prime spots for drug deals, but for some reason, nobody really went here anymore. If Negaduck was involved, it made sense. But there was no way he lived here. It was rotten, rundown and falling apart. I looked at all the cages and empty aquariums. The floorboards creaked under my feet, threatening to break. I looked at the message again. Where _do_ you go when you're in trouble? My sharp eyes scanned the sales desk, the bags of moldy dog food. Then I saw it. Tucked away in a dark corner next to the leashes. A dog house. How ironic. But it still didn't make much sense. Then I remembered the multidimensional universe. I used to live in a different one myself. I didn't remember that much about it, because my parents and I had moved to this version of St. Canard (Prime) when I was 5. But the one I spent my baby years in had been a world of black and white. I still remember the first time I saw color. But...how would Gosalyn know I knew about dimensional travel? If I didn't, I wouldn't understand the concept of the dog house. There was no way he could live here otherwise. But I knew this was a portal. Even as I approached it now, a soft swirling glow came from it. It turned green, pulsing with life. It was almost asking me to dive right in. I took a deep breath, swallowed. What kind of universe did Negaduck live in? And would I be able to come back to this one? I pulled my courage around me like a cloak. Only one way to find out.

I threw up all over my boots. Ah, what a fortuitous beginning. I couldn't _wait_ to see what happened next. I had appeared in the middle of the city, right at the freakin' _heart._ So everybody was watching me. I just appeared, kind of flying through the air, landing on the cement, and then...yeah. Just exploding out of my mouth. I stood up shakily, and just sort of walked away. Limped, whatever. I had _no_ idea where to find N. I almost wanted to ask, but I highly doubted anyone would actually know where he was. He was a notorious crime lord, and he moved in and out of the Negaverse like a shadow. No one knew where he was at any given time, or where he would strike next. He had that in common with Darkwing. They both loved the drama and the mystery of taking someone by surprise.

So, I just sort of walked around, trying to find clues. I felt disoriented and nauseous from the trip, and only about half of my mind was working. I listened to conversations in alleyways, pressed up against walls. I looked for codes in the graffiti. After about two hours of this, I was starting to wonder if it was really worth it. I mean, who was I to this man, anyway? I already knew from researching Darkwing over the years that his alternate self was incapable of loving anyone, or even really caring that much. He was power. He was violence. But he wasn't someone who should be a father. Yet, I was still drawn to the idea of him. Maybe he was tired of being alone. Maybe he at least wanted to talk to someone. I had no idea what he would want to talk about, but we did have a few things in common. I knew what it was like to be different. Someone who people either ignored or disliked. I had his violent blood in me. I loved playing with fire and explosives. I'd figured out how do all sorts of things that were frowned upon. That was why I'd gotten kicked out of boarding school. Hell, I wasn't a _bad_ person. I just liked to do things that others considered bad. But unlike Negaduck, I did have a conscience. My heart was rather big for people that needed help. Especially those who needed help but didn't ask for it. Those who hid behind walls and masks. There was something in my father that I wanted to find. And I didn't care if it took me years to look for it.

I was sitting on a bench, taking a break and trying to think, when I saw something fall right beside my leg. Whatever it was glimmered in the dim sunlight and spun to the ground. I reached for it when it settled. It was a gold coin. It was pretty big, and stamped into it was Negaduck's profile. A 5 dollar coin. On the other side was an etching of the city of St. Canard. It even captured the clouds of smog. I looked up then. A flash of black cape disappeared over the edge of the building. He'd been up there, watching me. I hoped he hadn't seen me earlier, when I'd puked on myself.

"So…" He dragged the word out with smooth intensity. His voice reminded me of a dark drink and a long cigarette. I tried my best to keep looking into his eyes. The dim light of the city shone off of them, making them almost transparent, like light burning through a ruby.

"How the hell do you find me here, girl?" His shifted on his feet, and I fought against backing away. The last thing I wanted was to be afraid of him, but he was _so intimidating._ His eyebrow cocked dangerously. He must have seen my flinch.

"Just answer the question." His tone was soft, yet gruff. "I'm not gonna throw you of the building." He reached into a pocket in his yellow coat, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Tapping them on the ledge, he kept his eyes on me.

"Believe it or not, kid… I've got too many questions for that." He smirked, pulling out a cig with his teeth. With his other hand he flicked out a match from a box. Quick as lightning, he lit it with the underside of bill. His eyes still remained on me. I was dying to learn what his questions were, but he'd asked me first. I broke eye contact first (dammit) and looked out over the city skyline. I think it was still the middle of the day, but with all the smog, it looked like an eternal sunset.

"I have my sources," I mumbled. His eyes were burning into me, and he inhaled his cigarette slowly. The wind blew it my direction, and I fought from breathing it up. I had only been able to afford cheap cigs recently, and whatever he was smoking smelled amazing. He grunted at my answer.

"There are a very few who know about the Negaverse, and even fewer that know how to get here. And I _know_ who they are…" He blew smoke at me again, his eyes narrowing dangerously. When I didn't respond, continuing to look out at the ruined city, he growled softly.

"You can protect them all you want, but they are never safe from me." He shifted from his position against the ledge, and I could feel him coming closer to me. "No one is…" He ground out. I looked at him again, fear pumping through me. What the hell was I doing? I was on top of one of the highest buildings in St. Canard with a murderous maniac. But the last thing I wanted to be was afraid. I thought of Gosalyn. Remembering how calm she had been at the record store gave me my own sense of calm. That, and I snuck a few whiffs from Negaduck's incredible cigarette. The strong nicotine worked wonders. I straightened up and stared him down. I'd been told that my own eyes were rather intimidating. He stood up straighter as well, and I saw the hint of a smile through his clenched teeth. Was he clenching his teeth because he was angry? Or did he always do that? Then, like a flash, I remembered his stomach wound. He'd just escaped the hospital yesterday. There was no way he was at 100% right now. Now that I thought about it, I noticed several things that showed he was favoring the wound. His cape always seemed to be draped just so. I couldn't get a clear view of the lower part of his jacket. And even with the wind up here, I could hear that his breathing was erratic. Knowing these things helped to further calm me down, and I let him get closer to me. Because there was still that nagging feeling that there were things I should know about him. Things that were buried deep down, and only someone as crazy as me would have the shovel to go digging. So, I smiled at him. Using my teeth.

"I guess what you said about not throwing me off the building was just a ten-second promise, eh?" I gave a slow wink with my black lidded eye. His own eyes widened a bit, but the shock at my change in attitude only lasted for a moment.

"There now." He murmured. "That color suits you a lot better than fear." And before I could even think of a reply, there was a lit cigarette between my fingers. He was standing almost shoulder to shoulder with me, staring out at the skyline. I noticed that his hands gripped the cement ledge, hard.

"So…" He coughed a bit on his cigarette. "Instead of asking how you got here, I'll ask why." My heart jerked in my chest. I settled with just going for the truth.

"Curiosity killed the cat." I looked at him, and our dark eyes met. He chuckled then, and turned away, hiding the pain.

"It certainly did. And you really are just a little kitten. What are you, 16? 17?"

"I'm 18." I blew out some smoke, but kept most of it in my lungs. God, this shit was good. I could be smoking a ten-dollar cig.

"Oooh-hoo. Big girl, eh? And you've come here to get to know your old man, is that right? How precious." His voice reached a dark tone that I hadn't heard yet. It made me shiver. Just like revving up one of my motorcycles made me shiver.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, girl, but I'm not in the business of-" A sudden thunderous explosion shook the building under our feet. I fell into him and we went down to the cement in a tangle of black fabric. My senses were flooded. Heat penetrated through his cape, and he was cursing up a storm right into my ear. The ground beneath us still shook, and I automatically took a fistful of his jacket. I felt him pushing up against me, then I realized that I had landed on top of him. I pulled my elbow away from his stomach with my own whispered curse. He rolled on top of me, pressing me down. I felt like I was going to smother to death (in the coolest way possible, because _holy shit_ this was straight out of Die Hard) when he finally let up and pulled himself off of me. I blinked my eyes against the sudden bright flames. They lit up the the sky, turning it into a noxious green. It was glorious. Negaduck was already standing at the ledge again. He mumbled something that sounded like "Rango", then he pulled out his biggest gun and shot a grappling hook into the neighboring building. No way was I going to stay up here, even if he told me to. I was about to say just as much when he turned around. He gave me a once over, then nodded to himself.

"How good are you at handling artillery, kid?" He started taking out guns and loading them. I ran a hand through my hair, which was already heavy with ash.

"Well, I used to date an ex-military duck who went rouge…" I nearly fell over again when I felt the heavy metal of an AK-47 bang into my arms. Negaduck was securing a hook to the wire cable that stretched down to a lower building.

"Perfect." He sneered. "Now grab hold of me, and don't fuckin' look down. Because I'm gonna show you what Papa Negs does in his spare time."


	4. Heal

"So...who's Rango?" Was what I was totally gonna ask. Before I grabbed a hold of my father's waist and we were flying through oblivion. His grip on me was like steel, and try as I might to stop it, I let out a bit of a shriek. I felt a deep chuckle vibrate in his chest, but his eyes stayed on the pavement below us.

"Let go." He bellowed above the noise of flames and shattering glass.

"What? What the hell…?"

"Drop and roll when we hit!"

Before I even had time to imagine myself going into a James Bond roll (I really should have taken gymnastics) we were coming dangerously close to the ground.

"Now!" He growled. I let go on instinct, and sort of fell/tumbled. A couple feet away, N executed a perfect tuck and roll, complete with cape-gathering action. He whipped out two massive guns before he'd even stood up straight and was already unloading a clip from behind a trash can. I realized with embarrassment that I'd left behind the AK-47 that he'd thrown at me, but he seemed to have no shortage in weapons. But then I remembered the handguns I'd brought with me to protect myself from the people of this city. How ironic. I knelt beside N. Whoever he was fighting was already firing back. He ducked, a devious smile on his face. He glanced over at me as I pulled my smaller guns from the straps on my legs. They had been hidden under my long coverall shirt this whole time.

"You ever killed before?" He ducked lower as a bullet ricocheted off the trash can. I actually rolled my eyes.

"What do you think?" I yelled. The bullets kept coming, and I was trying hard not to piss myself. He grunted.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then." Pushing himself up, he pulled a rocket launcher out of nowhere, lighting the fuse with another beak-lit match.

"Take 'em down, but don't shoot to kill. I need info from these goons." He ground out. Which made as much sense as a dog walking backwards. Considering he had just released a rocket at them. He fell back with the recoil, laughing at himself.

"That oughta _get_ _his attention._ " There was a rather sizable explosion, and I ducked. This time I didn't have a cape to hide under. One of the garbage cans fell on me, knocking the air out of my lungs. I tried to push it off, but was kept still by more sounds of gunfire. Then it was eerily quiet for a minute or two. The trash can rolled off of me, and N was holding out his hand.

"Come on. We've gotta find better-" A sharp crack split the air and he gasped. I let out a gasp of my own. He bent over for second, holding his shoulder. Then he growled and turned around, guns pointing to the dark sky.

" _Nobody shoots Negaduck!"_ He unleashed a volley of bullets into the gathering smoke, and I could hear voices crying out.

"Son of a bitch!" He screeched. "Stay here, kid." He pulled out a bomb, flipped his cape and bolted into the melee.

"Time to go a huntin'!"

After what seemed like hours, but was really only about 10 minutes, I saw his shadow appear out from the heavy smoke. He was singed and bleeding from various places, but his eyes were triumphant. He held a flat jewel case in one hand. In it was a tiny disc. He flipped it towards me, and I caught it. (Bonus points!)

"Hold on to that for me, kid. And don't ask what it is. The less you know, the better." I nodded, hesitantly. Great… he was using me as a decoy for stashing things. Oh, well. Could be worse, I guess.

"You're trusting me with this?" I arched my eyebrow at him. "I know Darkwing Duck." But he only laughed at me.

"You think meeting him once means you know him? Believe me, girl...you do _not know_ Darkwing Duck." He lit a cigarette. "'Sides, even if you did, this info wouldn't hold any interest for him. I got my own set of problems. And he's not involved in most of it. Just hide it somewhere in your garage or something."

"Wait a second, how do you know-"

"I know more about you than you'll ever know, kid."

"Great. That's not creepy at all. And would you quit calling me kid? I have a name."

"Sure, Nell." He smiled then. It was devious, but there was something in it that was reserved just for me, in that moment. The sun was going down, and the buildings around us were still on fire, but the flames were burning low. Unlike St. Canard Prime, this city didn't have cops or a clean-up crew. When things caught on fire, they just sort of went out naturally. He sighed then, a long, gusty sigh that seemed to come from his toes.

"We need to regroup. And it's possible that I may be slowly bleeding out...so...there's that…" I felt my eyes widen, and he grinned weakly.

"What the…?" I squawked. "Do you just say this stuff for the shock factor?"

"Heh, sometimes. But in this case it's the truth. I ripped my goddamned stitches hours ago. Time for Daddy to go home and rethink his life." He laughed then, and spit out a glob of blood.

"Come on...I've got my ride somewhere around here. If it's not full of bullet holes."

So… I can kind of heal people. I get magic from Magica, but… it's seriously unstable. To say the _least._ The genes I get from Negaduck really mess it up. In fact, when I was first hatched, apparently Magica tried to change my appearance, (I looked too much like N, and she's a narcissist, go figure) but instead of that happening, I got transported to another dimension. She even did the right spell, but my chaotic aura still botched it up bad. I was just freshly hatched, and when my adoptive mom found me, I wasn't in the best of shape.

Anyway, this whole chaotic thing came up when we got to N's house on Avian Way. He was bleeding pretty badly, and refused to go to the hospital.

"I'm fine…" He protested weakly. But he was laying on the couch, just sort of...staring at the ceiling. It was _really_ unsettling. Especially after seeing him kick ass with multiple weapons earlier. He was pressing down on the wound, but his hands were shaking. He couldn't stitch it back up when it was bleeding so bad, and it would be hard to get the angle right, since it was his stomach and all. I could only watch for a moment or two before I took a deep breath.

"Uh...Negaduck…?" I rasped out. His head turned to me slowly. He'd taken his hat off, and was only wearing his red turtleneck, bunched up on his chest.

"What?" He sounded vaguely irritated, but too weak to really care that much. He waved his hand at me in a "just go" kind of gesture. I shook my head at the gesture. I wasn't going anywhere.

"I know how to heal you." My voice was calm, but almost a whisper. I was scared to death. If I tried to heal him, and only hurt him worse, or transported him somewhere...he'd die. I don't know why I cared. He wasn't any kind of father that anybody would ever want. I was sure he didn't even care about me. But then I remembered the garbage can rolling off of me and his hand grabbing for mine. The can hadn't rolled away, he'd pushed it off. With torn stitches. I saw his dark smile in the light of the fire. "Sure, Nell." He wanted to know me, just as much as I wanted to know him. And now he needed me, for the first time since we'd met. I owed him this.

His dark eyes widened, and he tried to sit up.

"Wha...what... ? Whaddya mean you can…" He coughed, and blood splashed his beak. He wiped it away, weakly.

I knelt down next to him.

"Look N...can I just explain it later?" I asked, my voice shaking a bit. I didn't even realize I'd said my nickname for him until his eyes narrowed. Then he closed them, and sighed.

"Take your best shot, girl…" He lay back, resigned. It almost seemed like he didn't care if he lived or died. He was the very concept of YOLO. You only live once. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had discovered my healing powers only recently, when Magica found me. She had tried to show me some magic, and I ended up healing something when I was supposed to destroy it. Her own powers didn't work that way. Magica was made of negative energy like my father; she was power and destruction. I guess in my case, two negatives made a positive. But I'd only tried this power a couple of other times, and I wasn't the best at it. N's deep, jagged wound was gonna put me in challenge mode. I lay my hands on his stomach, trying not to cringe at the warm wetness. He flinched and a soft growl came from his throat, but then he stayed still. Even a rabid dog would let you save its life, right? Ironic, since the last thing I tried this on _had_ been an injured dog. I felt the positive energy come at me like waves. It was a natural thing, if I just concentrated. When Magica had shown me, it was supposed to be negative energy, and I was supposed to send a ray of death into a half-wilted plant. Instead, I'd sent a healing ray of light in it, and the plant had grown to twice its size. My mother hadn't been disappointed, she was just glad I could use magic at all. I hadn't tried anything else, afraid that something really bad would happen.

The energy filled my body, and I let it taper down to my hands. I pushed it into my father's stomach, and he jumped like I'd hit him with a bolt of lightning. The screech that came from him was otherworldly. He sounded like he was being tortured. His own hands seized my wrists like bands of steel, and I cried out. But I didn't move them. I kept feeding the energy into him, realizing how bad this could be for him if I gave him too much. He almost succeeded in pulling my hands away, but then our eyes met. His glowed a hungry red. He knew he needed this. His fingers released my wrists just as I felt the flesh mend. His stitches fell out (or did I pull them out with the magic?) and the jagged line sealed shut. He closed his eyes and gave a shudder, then let out a groan that sounded...suspiciously erotic. I blushed red hot and turned away. I didn't realize that healing would feel good. I remembered the dog's happy sigh, and how it had followed me around for hours afterward. _Oh god, this is weird._ I thought… I was about to stand up when I felt his hand catch mine. He squeezed, firm enough to almost hurt. I felt his eyes on me. I glanced over hesitantly. He watched me for a good long minute, then sighed.

"I need a cigarette." He smiled in a nasty way, his teeth showing. He _knew. Damn you,_ I thought. _You know what just happened, and how dirty that is. Yet, you are fuckin' teasing me. What a bastard._ But then, I couldn't help it. I smiled my own dark smile, then let out a laugh.

"Fine. As long as I get one too, old man."

He rasped out his own laugh then, rolling his eyes mockingly.

After a couple of cigarettes, he was very complacent. He lounged on the couch, and I could tell he hadn't slept in a long time. I kept waiting for him to tell me to leave or make some sort of sign that he wanted to be left alone, but he didn't. In fact, he gestured to the refrigerator before I even said I was hungry. He didn't have much in there, just a jar of pickles and half a pizza. _Hey, I'm not the only person in the world who likes anchovies._ I thought, smiling to myself. Feeling almost cheerful, I set the food on the coffee table, then snatched his red fedora off his head and placed it on my head. He gave a grunt, but didn't move. I sat cross-legged on the floor and ate a piece of cold pizza with more gusto than I'd eaten anything in awhile. I felt… I don't really know how to explain it. This was really… kind of fucked up. I mean, I had parents that really cared about me. Actually loved me. In fact, I hadn't called either one of them in awhile, and they were probably wondering what was going on in my life. But I didn't really want them to know. They wouldn't understand. I'd found my real parents. And they were criminals. Dark, twisted criminals. My mother had given me magic. My father had given me chaos. And I was proud of it. For once, I felt like I actually made sense. That I actually had a purpose. I wasn't sure what it was yet, but it was there. Something was happening inside of me. A wall was coming down that had been up for a long time. I had power. And I was going to use it.

It must have shown on my outsides what I was feeling in my insides. N was watching me.

"How do you still have so much energy, girl?" He drawled, pulling on his cigarette. "Doesn't it drain you to use magic?"

"I guess not." I smiled, taking a pickle out of the jar. "I'm not really… typical though." I crunched down on the juicy cucumber, my eyebrows dancing. At that, N let out a laugh that sounded so guttural, it was almost a roar.

"Ya got that right!" He bellowed. He ran his hand through his top feathers, then looked over at his hat, which was still perched on my head. I just smirked at him, finishing my pickle.

"So...is this red to hide all the blood?" I pulled the rim down, watching it spring back up.

"Tch. Something like that." He snubbed out his cigarette straight on the table. Not a single ashtray in Negaduck's house. Then he leaned over and fished a pickle from the jar. He ripped at it with his razor teeth. He looked like a crocodile enjoying a juicy baby animal.

"You know…" I said. "Next time we hang out, it would be nice if you weren't gushing blood, N." His eyes narrowed at the name, and he raised an eyebrow. He was studying me again, but not with any malicious intent. He looked like he was ready to talk, finally.

"I'm guessing you have a lot of questions about where you came from, eh?" I nodded, taking another piece of pizza from the box.

"Well, listen closely. Cuz I'm only gonna tell you this shit once. Got it? After that, story hour is over." He shoved his index finger at the air to make his point.

"I got it." I said.


	5. Story Time

AN: This chapter has a few mentions of rape. Not the action itself, and not by Negaduck. (He's not quite that bad, right?) More swearing. Kind of happens when you get Nell and Negs together. And things get a bit weird, but it's not what you think! To anyone out there reading this that's made it to this chapter, thank you!

It had been two months since they'd teamed up. Everything in the underground system was online. He'd made his maps, he'd calculated his routes. The train was working superbly. He was actually very proud of that. Like all of his other mass weapons, he'd had it built by Nega Launchpad, but the designs were strictly from _him._ His own magnificent genius. None of this could have been possible if it weren't for him. He'd come up with 90% of the plan himself. The other 10% was _her._ That witch. She was starting to wear him down. Make him feel undone at the hinges. He'd have to find out a way to get her off his tail soon, or he was about ready to get on hers. And he knew that she wouldn't resist. Much. The thought of it had already sent him to the dingy bathroom a handful of times. _Handful...heh._ He grimaced to himself. He was pretty sure she'd put some kind of spell on him. And that pissed him off. Nobody controlled Negaduck but _Negaduck._ If she thought she could tell him what to do, or how to do it, she had another damn thing coming. He'd put her in her place. Tonight, if possible.

They were exhausted after their busy day. They'd jumped four dimensions in the course of eight hours. That was four Darkwing duplicates. Four worlds that they'd had to enter. He was used to the motion sickness by now, but Magica still looked rather green when they entered. He sneered at her, grateful that she wasn't throwing up at least. That very first time had been a disaster. He'd almost given up on the whole plot. Hearing her complain was a torture in of itself. He'd rather burn in Hell than listen to a woman whine.

They were wrestling the final Darkwing of the day into the holding cell when the tension snapped. The Darkwing had woken up for a few seconds, and struggled like a demon. He ripped out of the ropes and grabbed both of them, swinging them around like toys. It didn't help that he was a giant, fur-covered Darkwing. Some kind of werewolf or Bigfoot. Negaduck didn't really care. All he knew was that the thing was trying to crush him to death with its massive hands.

"Ugh, you sonuva… Magica! Use your goddamned spell! For hell's sake, woman!"

"I'm...trying… He's crushing...me...you...idi…" And then she fainted dead away. The beast Darkwing dropped her, then squeezed Negaduck harder. Normally Darkwing wouldn't be _this_ violent, but they'd put him under a control spell. Only...for some reason, they didn't have the control. _What the hell went wrong this time?_ Negaduck wriggled out of its clutches, then managed to pull his gun out. He loaded a taser canister into it, and fired. He hit it in the chest, close to its heart. It shuddered spectacularly, then fell flat on its beak. Negaduck was glad that he'd got out of its grip first, because _that_ would have really hurt. He dusted off his jacket, then looked over at Magica. She was laying flat on her stomach with her hind end in the air. He gave a shudder of his own, and licked his lips. It would be so easy. But even Negaduck was above taking advantage. He liked his women to respond to his advances. Squirming and begging were the best… He'd been with a couple of the Macawber sisters and knew his way around a woman. They were complicated, but he didn't mind that. He liked a challenge.

He squatted down next to Magica and looked at his gun. It would be fun to wake her up somewhat violently, but he still had to work with her for a few more months, and unfortunately, he needed the crone's magic. They were just going to have to get along. And he knew just the way to placate her. And release a little steam… Taking her small beak in his hand, he gently shook her awake.

"Hey, Mag… Wake up, babe…" He smiled at her, knowing the smile was full of lust. Her eyelids fluttered and she shrugged away from him.

"What are you doing? Get your hands off of…" He moved his hands to her hair. He inwardly grimaced at how oily it was, hoping it was hair product.

"Just checking to see if you're alright, my dear… That was quite the battle." He made his voice purr. Magica arched an eyebrow at him. She didn't trust him, but she'd rather be treated nicely than anything else.

"What in hell happened? I lost control of my spe… Hey...did you get hit on the head or somethink? You're acting...strange…" He stood up suddenly. _So...playing hard to get, is she? Well, I never shirk from a challenge._

"Nah, I'm just exhilarated. I mean, _look at this big bastard!_ And he nearly had us, but I took him down!" He grandly gestured around at the subway station.

"My plan is coming to fruition, Magica."

"Don't you mean _our_ plan? Gods, you're so full of yourself." She stood up, rolling her eyes. He only smiled at her, his own eyes gleaming.

"And," She continued with an arch of an eyebrow. "I don't believe this crap about you being 'exhilarated'". She made air quotes.

"Eh?" He frowned.

"I just think you're full of lust, you devil." Her voice was half annoyed, half sultry. He put his hands on his hips and thrust his chest out.

"Yeah? So what if I am?"

"Ha, ha… Sleep with a witch, and you get cursed." She pulled out her purse and started rummaging through it.

"Tch. I'll take my chances." He lit a cigarette, slowly studying her. "'Sides, I've got a couple of other witches under my belt. I don't mind a curse or two if it's worth it." His teeth shone out at her wolfishly.

"You _are_ a little devil." She pulled perfume out of the bag and sprayed herself liberally.

"Oh, what the hell." She said. "What else we got to do in this nasty place?"

Before he knew it, the tables were turned, and she was on him in a flash, plucking at his black buttons.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA! You can stop right there, N! Holy shit...I didn't need to know everything in detail! Just skip that part and tell me about how I was born!" I jumped up from my spot by the table and paced around… I mean, I knew the old man was proud of his virility, but _damn._ He just cackled at me. He lay comfortably on the couch with his fingers laced behind his head. I pulled his fedora off my head, and flopped it onto his face. He peered out from underneath it, his smile taunting.

"Aw, but that _is_ how you were born! I grabbed her and fu-"

"STOP! What the hell is wrong with you, Negaduck!"

"Heh, heh! Alright, alright. I'll skip that part… But I don't think that was how you were made anyway. That was just the first time-"

"Jeez! I'm your daughter, you _do_ realize that, right?"

"Of course, I do." He sat up. "But, heh. A parent is supposed to torture their kids, right?"

"Oh, great. Yeah, sure. But seriously, I do have some questions. And they are _not_ about how you scored the old crone, alright?"

"Fine, shoot."

"Well, for one thing, how old is Magica?" He was silent for a moment, drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch. He rubbed his chin with the other one, thinking.

"Hmm, I don't know. But from what I gathered, pretty ancient. She's probably around 300 or so."

"Years?! What the...ew…"

"I guess so. She keeps herself alive with her magic. Really, she's immortal, if you think about it... " His eyes lost focus, and he stared at the far wall for a moment or two.

"I've tried to wrestle some of her secrets out of her, but she keeps them in a tight trap." He bit off the last two words with his sharp teeth and his eyes glittered at me.

"But, if she's so damn old, how did I even get born?"

"I dunno. She blames it on the magic. I blame it on…" He gestured to all of himself. "Pure unadulterated awesomeness. With an extra side of badassery." His smile was like an alligator's is when it's found a juicy baby. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Damn, you really are full of yourself."

"Eh. Who _else_ would I be full of?" His eyebrows wiggled, and I shook my head, wondering if he was being a pervert again. He was just so nasty, and I found it both annoying and hilarious.

"Seriously, though," He continued, lowering himself back on the couch again and staring at the ceiling. "I am pretty much chaos incarnate. I think her magic and my chaos made a sort of weird mixture that just….went haywire and BAM. You were created." He sighed then. "Thing is… the old bitch never mentioned you. I think she was ashamed." My heart sank at hearing this, and I sat down on the table, searching for a cigarette.

"Right. Is that why she fuckin' abandoned me?" I tried to make it sound casual, but all the bitterness came out anyway. I found a cig and concentrated on lighting it, even when I heard the couch creak and felt his eyes on me.

"Is that what she told you?" His voice was soft, but not in a comforting way.

"Well, not outright, no. She said that she'd tried to do magic on me when I hatched, and I got sent away to another dimension. I guess it took her a long time to find out that had even happened to me. I dunno. Whatever happened, she hasn't found me until about a month ago, so it's the same damn thing as abandonment, right?" I chanced looking over at him then. I wished I hadn't. His eyes held a strange mixture of anger...and something else I couldn't place. But it felt like he knew exactly what it was to be alone and uncared for.

"Is that why you named yourself Negligence?" When he spoke, I could pinpoint the sadness in it with no problem. _Could he actually care about me?_ Despite all I've seen and heard of my father, so far, he hadn't actually given me a reason to think he didn't care. Before I'd met him, I thought for sure that he'd just ignore me, send me packing. But he'd let me into his life. He'd even let me heal his injuries. I mean, here I was, at his house in the Negaverse. Having pickles and pizza with a nefarious crime lord. Talking about meaningful things. Almost made me feel all cuddly inside…

I looked away. His expression was too raw for me to handle. It felt like he wasn't wearing his mask.

"Yeah," I whispered. "Pretty creative, huh?"

"Tch. If you say so, kid. But you're going to have to come up with another one." He rumbled. My back stiffened and I stood up.

"What? What do you mean?" I almost yelled. He kept his cool, only glancing at me from under his fedora. His eyes then shifted to the pack of cigs on the table and he made a small gesture with his hand. I picked it up and nearly slammed them into his palm. He didn't even flinch.

"Think about it, Nell. You've come to my city. My universe. I _own_ this place. And they've seen you with me already."

"They? Who's…" I stopped. "Your enemies." I whispered.

"Bingo, girl. And I've got a shit ton of them. This whole damn city is my enemy. They do what I tell them to, but they also hate my guts. Sure, I'm too powerful for them to turn against me, but it happens from time to time. Someone gets a bright idea, and then they get a group together and come after me. I'm never safe from that." He took a deep drag on his cigarette, then blew it out meditatively. He stared at the damp ceiling for a long minute. I was quiet, letting him think.

"Problem is," He finally growled. "I don't have that many weaknesses. But you just filled the bill, little miss." I gave off a growl of my own and stomped over to him.

"Wait just a damn minute, N. That's bullshit. I'm not _anyone's_ weakness." But my heart raced. He wasn't safe. He'd just said it himself. And here I was, his daughter. Prime ransom material. Someone, somewhere would come after me. And they'd get what they'd wanted. Or I'd get tortured and killed in the process. My blood ran cold, and my knees refused to hold me. I sank to the floor.

"No…" I whispered. "This...this wasn't what I wanted. This isn't…" I pulled at the dirty brown carpet with my fists, fighting the tears that burned in my eyes. The _last_ thing I wanted was to be his weakness. A liability. A pain in the ass. He's throw me out for sure now. I thought about getting up and leaving. My legs gained their strength back, and I started to stand up, when I felt his hand on my shoulder, pressing me down again.

"Not so fast, girl. I've got a plan. Your old man has _always_ got a plan, eh?" I looked up at him, a tear dropping unwanted from my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. But he said nothing. Then he was sitting down across from me on the carpet. His face was so close to mine that the wide brim of his hat pushed into my hair.

"You're gonna come up with a new name." He stated. He pulled another drag from his cigarette.

"Like, change my identity? But-"

"No, nothing like that." He cuffed my shoulder. "Just listen, and quit interrupting me, will ya?" I nodded, grudgingly. What the hell was he up to?

"Now, this is gonna sound...weird. And a little gross. But I can't think of anything else to do. Not in a pinch, anyway." He looked away for a moment, then looked back at me.

"You've gotta pretend to be my ginch."

"You're _what?_ " I breathed. Whatever this was, it was sounding bad.

"You know. A floozy. One of my little whores."

My stomach turned so violently, I almost threw up right there on the carpet. _Oh, hell no._ _This was where I said goodbye. No way in hell._ I shot up, not saying a word. I marched toward the door. I could hear him stand up behind me, and my heart went to my throat. Would he attack me? Would he…?

"Nell! Wait! Hold on just a damn minute, will ya?"

"Get away from me!" My hand grabbed the doorknob, and I twisted. It didn't turn. My adrenaline kicked up to overflowing, and without even thinking, I screamed. I felt him on me, and I thrashed, kicking and flailing. It took me a full minute to realize that he wasn't actually there. I looked slowly over my shoulder, breathing hard. He was on the opposite end of the room, his hands held out in an open gesture of peace. He hadn't been after me. His face showed apprehension, then in an instant, it was made of stone. Cold anger rippled in the air. His aura was charged. But none of it was directed at me. When I slumped to the floor, I heard his voice. It was deathly quiet.

"Who got you, Nell?"

Got me. That was a good way of saying it. Rape. It was an ugly word. And a very ugly act. It had happened years ago, before I had even really thought about boys that way yet. I knew that no one would be on my side afterward. The guy had power, had influence. And I had just been a punk student in a reform school. It was something I'd locked away for years. Then, the simple act of running from what I'd thought was my father's advances brought it all up to the surface. How had he known? How had he been able to read me so well?

This time I didn't hide my tears. I didn't care if he got mad at me for crying. I needed this. I hadn't cried about that son-of-a-bitch in a long time. _Blaine. That was the bastard's name._ I sobbed uncontrollably. Negaduck left, turning the corner into the kitchen. He came back moments later, but didn't get too close. I was glad. Still reeling from what he'd suggested, I flinched when the cold washcloth landed on my lap. But it felt so good on my eyes, which were hot and swollen. He let me stay where I was, by the door, even if it was still locked from the outside. After a few more minutes, he paced the floor, his energy turning anxious. He smoked three cigarettes in a row.

"Nell." He finally said. My name in his beak sounded soft this time, like something he was holding close.

"I uh… I didn't mean to freak you out. When I said 'pretend' I didn't mean… All you have to do is…" He growled at himself, his fist smashing into the lamp by the couch. It flew off the side table, the bulb smashing.

"You know what, never mind. It's not a good plan…" His voice was pitched higher, the anxiety in him escalating. I had a visual flash of an orange bottle of pills, the one I kept in my bathroom at home. I rarely took them. Had I got my disorder from him?

"Just...go home. This is...over. I'll stay out of your life if you stay out of mine. Maybe you'll be safer that way. Maybe I will. That's a better idea. Act like we never met? Yeah, that'll work. Go home, and just do you. I don't need…" He was breathing heavily, the air coming in short strangled gasps. I remembered this too. The panic attacks. I had to do something. Sure, I could just leave. I mean, dude. My dad had just asked me to be his whore. But the more I thought about it, the more I got what he meant. I just had to pretend when I was seen in public around him. Don't deny it if anybody asked me. Maybe a grab of an arm here, an arch of an eyebrow there. Nothing too obvious. It was still weird, but not at all like what I'd thought. He was trying to protect me. I got that now. It made sense. It was _twisted,_ but it made sense. _Just play the game, and he'll keep you safe, Nell. That's all he wants. He's not gonna hurt you._

Seeing that he needed to calm down, I stood up quickly. He was pulling out a fourth cigarette, his fingers trembling as he struggled to light it. The words were just spilling out of him now. They had ceased to make sense. I heard a smattering of "safe" and "go". But I wasn't going anywhere. I knew what it was like to be alone when one of these attacks hit. It wasn't pretty. If someone wasn't around to talk you out of it, you ended up on the floor, unconscious.

"N." I said his nickname firmly, standing in front of him. He slowed down when he saw me in the way, but his eyes were cloudy. He didn't know I was even there. _Great,_ I thought. _Why is every moment with this guy full of so much drama?_ I mean, I didn't even get to finish my own meltdown before he started in on his. What a drama queen. He stood in front of me, still muttering and breathing fast. If he took a pill for this, I was gonna guess he took it about as often as I took mine. Which was like...twice a year. Hey, the side-effects sucked, what could I say? I suddenly remembered the cold washcloth. I was still gripping it in my hands. Without even thinking, I slapped it across his beak. Probably not the most professional of methods, but whatever works. He grunted and blinked hard. I set my hands firmly on his forearms, squeezing a bit.

"Dad." The name came easily, even if it was the first time I'd ever called him that. I figured it would snap him fully out of his attack.

"Breathe, okay? I know it's hard. I've got the same problem. Thanks, by the way." He looked at me kind of funny, still not comprehending just what the hell was going on. I blamed the lack of oxygen.

"Slowly, in and out… Like me." I took a deep breath in, then let it out very slowly. He mimicked me. After a couple of minutes of this, his eyes started to clear. He actually saw me when he was looking at me.

"Good. You're back." I smiled weakly.

"Did you…?" He paused for a moment, blinking. "Did you just… call me 'Dad'?" He almost sounded angry, but more confused than anything.

"I guess I did. I was just trying to get you to come back to the land of the living." I hoped he didn't remember the dishrag slap.

"I thought you left…" He looked away, and I could swear I saw a hint of pink on his white cheeks.

"Well, it would serve you right if I did. I mean, what did you expect? You just asked me to…" He shook his head violently.

"No, that's out of the question now. I can think of-"

"I'll do it." I said firmly. He whipped his head back around.

"Wha…?"

"You heard me. I'll do it. I know what you meant now. A little game of pretend. I'm pretty good at acting. I can play along. Just as long as it doesn't require too much PDA." I smiled at him. He blinked hard once again, then slowly smiled as well. It looked devilish.

"Well, lucky for you, Negaduck doesn't tolerate public displays of affection."

"Thank god."


	6. Tool

Eventually I just sort of nodded off to a laundry soap commercial. He kept the TV on all night, in a quiet drone. I was on the couch by now, and I thought I'd been talking to N, but things just went soft and blurry. I woke up a couple of times, forgetting where I was, and then I'd remember. I never actually saw him when I was awake, but I knew he was around. He never went into his bedroom, and the last time I heard him before I fell into a deeper sleep, I caught the sound of metallic scraping. He was always doing something with his endless stash of weapons. Did the bastard ever sleep? I was thinking about this when I rolled over on the creaky couch and darkness came on me again. I had strange dreams, and one really bad one that involved a lot of blood. I could feel N somewhere in the dream, but he didn't show up. On the edge of waking, I felt something in my hair. It sort of pulled, but it felt nice.

I finally woke up all the way when I smelled the coffee. I sat up, shoving off a ratty blanket that I hadn't noticed before. I hid a smile behind a yawn. He was over at the table. In a bathrobe. Without his mask. He already had a cup of coffee, and was thumbing through the newspaper. He didn't even look tired, and was actually chuckling wickedly at something in the paper. No doubt the obits. Or the police blotter. I shuffled over to the coffee pot.

"Eh, 'bout time you woke up. You got a snore that could wake Elvis, you know that?" He sneered.

"Huh. Must be why I can't keep a boyfriend around." I shrugged, pouring the piping hot black liquid into a mug. He hissed through his teeth in what I could only guess was a laugh.

"Tch. I'm sure that's not the _only_ reason."

"You got any decent food around here?" I started to go through the cupboards, looking over my shoulder to see how he'd react. He just flipped a page of the newspaper.

"Decent? Hey, this isn't a five star hotel, kid." He pressed his cigarette to an image on the page, watching in amusement as it burned a hole through someone's face. I looked in the fridge.

"Jeez. You don't even have any milk."

"I'm watching my waistline…" He smirked.

"I don't think you need to worry about that, N. You're skin and bones."

"Hey, I'm sheer muscle!" He glanced over at me. "'Sides, there's orange juice in there." I bent over and picked up the carton, sniffing it first. The expiration date was still okay at least. I found a somewhat clean glass and poured. The liquid turned into giant chunks of orange that thumped wetly into the glass.

"Don't bitch about the pulp," He snorted. "I like it."

"Yeah? You like to chew your drink?" I cocked my eyebrow at him, but he just grunted and snapped his sharp teeth at me. I looked in the freezer, and found a familiar yellow box. I held it up.

"Eggos?"

"Hell yeah. Just like Nana used to make. Heh. Blueberry too." He was scribbling notes on the edge of the paper. Next to his henscratch was a half-finished crossword puzzle. The sudoku was already done. I rolled my eyes.

"You read the funnies too, old man?" I grinned mischievously.

"Eh. Hagar the Horrible's the only funny one anymore. That and Garfield. That cat's a real dick." His eyes gleamed red beneath his heavy brows. "I like him." I sat down across from him, waiting for my Eggos to pop up.

"God, those eyebrows…" I teased.

"What? What about them?" He reached up and preened himself.

"It's just...no wonder mine are so thick."

"Heh, heh. It's what every young woman wants right? A nice set of...thick eyebrows." He cackled.

"Aw, shaddup." I glanced at the crossword. "I think 7 Down is 'crowbar' by the way."

"Eh?" He scratched his messy head feathers. "Now how the hell did I miss that one?" My waffles popped up, and I went to get them. There was no butter (big surprise) so I just slapped them on a paper towel and carried them over to the table.

"So… Does Darkwing have those eyebrows, too?" I said, casually biting into the hot Eggo. His head snapped up at the mention of his nemesis's name.

"Darkwing…?" He narrowed his eyes. The name managed to sound both full of hatred and reverence in his beak. I wasn't sure how that worked, but there it was. He seemed to lose his train of thought for a second, like I'd given him a sucker punch.

"Nah," He said after a moment. "He doesn't." His tone said to leave it at that, but I pressed on.

"How do you know? Have you ever seen him unmasked?" As soon as I asked the question, I knew he was going to deliver a barrage of answers. It was like asking a Star Wars fanboy how much he hated episodes I-III. Most of them couldn't stand them, but they loved to tell you how much they despised them. In every detail.

"How do I _know?_ Girl, I know _everything_ about Darkwing Duck." He bit off his name with relish. Like a dog with its bone.

"We are complete opposites, but the same." The newspaper was totally abandoned, and he was staring at the table like he could burn a hole through it.

"Like a coin?" I asked. He nodded.

"I know his secret identity. It was...heh….Pretty easy to figure out, actually. I mean, we live in the same _house for duck's sake._ " I was quiet, letting him ramble. I wanted to know everything too.

"'Course, his is prettier than mine." He shuddered. "Yeah…" He leaned back in his chair, lighting another cigarette. "All I had to do was disguise myself and stake out his house. 537 Avian Way. Same exact address."

"So, what...you just wanted for him to come out?"

"Yep. I picked the right season, right time of day. Sometime in May in the afternoon. I knew he couldn't stay cooped up in the house with the sun shining, and birds chirping...all that good shit. And he didn't. Came sauntering out the front door. I knew it was him right away. Looks just like me. Minus the eyebrows." He wiggled his for effect. "He was wearing a sweater vest and pink shirt. Goes by the name of Drake Mallard. It's written right on his mailbox." He leaned further back in his chair, chuckling. "But that's not all. That girl...Gosalyn… The little red-head? She was about 14… It's obvious as hell. She hangs out with him on most of his cases. His partner. Right." I subconsciously sat up straighter in my chair, my half-eaten waffle falling out of my hand.

"Those two are a father-daughter team if ever I saw one." He grinned wickedly.

"Yeah?" I tried to sound super casual. "It figures." I said, biting into the rest of my waffle.

"But you've probably already figured that out by now, eh, kid? I know you're smart enough. The Scarlet Shadow… ha. She used to be Quiverwing Quack. Come to think of it, it was obvious she was his daughter back then. She even called him "Dad" a couple of times within earshot. But…" He pushed himself up from the table.

"I have the most obvious tip off of all." He went over to the counter pouring more coffee.

"Hm?" I pressed.

"I used to have a Gosalyn too." He said this very quietly.

"Wait, what?" I stood up. "Like, your daughter?"

"No. Not really. Just some kid I kidnapped. But she looked just like his girl. Only she didn't have that spirit...that fire that she has. Anyway...she served my purposes a long time ago." My stomach dropped. _Oh, god. What did he do to her? And was he planning on using me? Then getting rid of…_ I shifted in my chair, and he heard the noise.

"She's not buried in the backyard or anything." He narrowed his eyes at me. "She just...ran away. With those traitorous bastards."

"Who?" I hated asking, but I didn't want to be left in the dark.

"The Fearsome Four. Only they're not so fearsome here. They call themselves 'friendly'. It's sick, really. To see them that way. Anyway, they adopted her, I guess. Like Darkwing did with…" He trailed off.

"Gosalyn." I whispered. I remembered her at my record store, her body protectively over mine.

"Yeah." He turned around, suddenly eyeing me in a suspicious way. "How well do you know those two, anyway?" _Here we go...I thought._ I'd been waiting for this. Using me for a spy would be all too easy. What he didn't know was that I wasn't completely loyal to him, and never would be. Sure he was my dad, but I wasn't stupid. I really liked Darkwing and Scarlet. I'd been following their careers for my entire childhood. No way would I betray them.

"Not that well. Only by what I've read or seen on the news. And when we first met at the record store." I didn't tell him that I had her phone number.

"Hmm…" He put his hand to his chin, then sat down.

"You should get to know them better, I think." His tone was so obviously full of a scheme that I almost laughed. _Really, N?_

"I know what you're thinking." I said, without fear.

"Oh, do you?"

"Yeah, Negaduck. I do." Using his real name made him look at me closely.

"And the answer is 'no'. I'm not a spy. Or a tool. I refuse to be used. By anyone." Our dark red eyes met, battling for a full minute. Then closed his, sighed, leaned back in his chair again, and laughed.

"You've got guts, girl. Nobody turns down an offer from Lord Negaduck around here."

"Well," I stood up. "I'm not 'nobody'." He laughed again. Good to know he was amused by me. He sat up straight, watching me as I put my glass in the sink.

"It was worth a try, anyway. I figured you were too smart to be used. If you'd agreed, I'd be disappointed. You are my own blood, after all." He pressed his cigarette butt to the table, adding to the countless black marks.

"So, what? You're not using me? What a shocker."

"Nah. I don't need a spy, anyway. I find out all my info on my own. Can't trust just any old sap, ya know. But…" He stood up, making his way to the fridge. His shoulder brushed mine. Taking out the carton of orange juice, he finished it in one huge gulp.

"I do need somewhere to hide that info." I remembered the tiny disk that he'd given me before. It was still in my garage, tucked away in one of my many toolboxes.

"Yeah? And what do I get out of it?" I stared him down. He crushed the empty carton and threw it over my shoulder, where it landed in the garbage can. I admit that I flinched a tiny bit.

"Tell you what, Nell. You hide my intel in Primeverse...and I'll…" He smiled at me with those crocodile teeth.

"I'll teach you how to fight." Not even waiting for an answer, he belched, wiping his beak with the sleeve of his bathrobe and walked into the living room. Flopping down on the couch, he turned up the volume on the TV, where a news reporter was talking about a recent fire in the city.

"Heh, heh. Dumb bastards." He clicked his teeth at the screen. "Can't even keep the flames hot long enough… Everyone knows nitro lasts longer than kerosene. Fuckin' amaturs."

I moved over to the coffee table, clearing a space and sitting on it.

"Hey. I already know how to fight, N."

"Tch. Whatever, kid. You just know the basics. Only made it to orange belt before you got thrown out, right?"

"What the…?" I stood up, enraged. "How the hell do you know…?" He kept his eyes on the screen, hand scratching away at a notepad that just came out of nowhere. His other hand was secured around a box of cartridges. He seemed to be counting them. _Jeez, does this guy ever stop? He's an obsessed workaholic. Just like Darkwing._

"Easy, Nell. I already told you before...I know my intel. Speaking of which... there's more in my room. Red dresser, bottom drawer. And _don't_ go poking around in there, got it?" I blinked. _What the hell? If he was keeping this stuff hidden, why would he tell me where it was? Why didn't he keep it in a safe? And WHY did he trust me with going into his bedroom?_ The whole thing stunk of dead rat.

"Oh, and… Let the dogs in, and feed 'em, will ya?"

The dogs… N's trained dobermans. I'd forgotten all about them. They must have been in the yard all night. I didn't even know where the dog food was. Let alone, why he wanted them inside. Wasn't there 5 of them? God, he was so _weird._ Clearly, he was showing me that he trusted me. Which made it even more weird. Negaduck didn't trust anyone. I shrugged and padded up the stairs to his bedroom. The door was a crack open. Swallowing, I pushed it open. This really felt like some kind of trap. The room smelled like gun oil, matches and cigarettes. There also was an underlying smell of stale sheets, and intimacy. Which made me gag a bit, wondering if he still saw my mother every once in awhile. His bedding was black and red, and I tried not to look too closely at it. One of the top sheets was literally tied in a knot. _I'm just gonna pretend he did that when he was having a nightmare._ I shook my head, and made my way to the red dresser. It was tall and narrow, with about ten drawers. I carefully slid the bottom one open. There were layers of folded fabric on top. My guess was pillowcases. Underneath those were...dirty magazines. Seriously, old man? I wanted to scream at him, but I kept my cool. I got the feeling that underneath...yep. A false bottom. I pressed the secret hinge with the tip of my finger and the wood of the drawer lifted away, revealing another bottom. It was painted black, and there were four tiny jewel cases inside. I pocketed them in my coverall shirt, then replaced everything. So, he was testing my trust and intelligence. I knew this was the way it was going to be between him and I. Endless tests. And I knew he was a hard grader.

After I left the room, I went back down the stairs. _There must be a back door to let the dogs in._ Also, would they attack me? I knew they were highly trained, but still…

"You got the disks?" He growled from the living room.

"Yeah."

"How many?"

"Uh...there were four."

"Good. Back door's in the basement. Food's by the washer. Just yell out "kibble" at 'em. They won't attack unless I tell 'em to."

"Heh. And what's your word for that, 'mutilate'?"

"Something like that… There's a fridge down there too if you want a cold one." Yeah, N. Because I loved a good beer at 9 am. Of course, he probably did. Classy.

Down in the basement, I made the wise choice of pouring the dog food into the bowls before opening the door. I felt like a damned commercial for Purina when I yelled out 'kibble'. I was surprised he didn't want me to bang on a triangle while I was at it. I swear I heard him laughing at me from upstairs. The dobermans almost knocked me on my ass, and they laid into the food like that hadn't eaten in a week. I cleared out of there, vaulting back up the steps. When I got back to the living room, N was gone. The TV was in the middle of the movie "Scarface". I heard the revving of a chainsaw and my stomach tensed for a second before I realized it was on the screen.

"Ah, the infamous chainsaw scene. Best part in the whole damn flick." Negaduck stood at the top of the stairs, adjusting his scarlet fedora.

"Look, kid. I've got a bunch of shit to do. So you'd better scram. Even my harlets don't stick around for breakfast." I made a face at him, and he grinned maliciously, pulling his black mask tighter. One of the dobermans came padding up the stairs. It panted, walked a circle around me, then sat down, scratching itself.

"That one's Flesh Render. I just call her Ren for short. Go on, give her a pat. She won't hurt ya." He sneered.

"Yeah, no. I'm good." I backed away. He laughed.

"Coward." He hopped down the last three stairs, landing agilely in front of me.

"So. You hide my stuff, I'll teach you how to handle artillery. The damned army couldn't teach you better, girl. We got a deal?" He stretched out his hand.

"Seriously? Why would I need to learn that?" I narrowed my eyes at him. He blinked, taken aback. Like it never occurred to him that I'd say no.

"What, really? Why _wouldn't_ you?"

"You said you'd teach me how to fight."

"Yeah? And that's what I'm gonna do. You wanna know how to watch out for yourself, doncha?"

"I already know how to do that. I don't need live ammo to defend myself."

"Well, what the hell, kid. Nobody _needs_ live ammo. It's just...so much fun." His pointed teeth gleamed. _Is this his way of saying he wants to get to know me? Some kind of twisted way to bond? Who knows? Maybe some of this stuff would come in handy. Pretty sure he just wants to show off what he knows, though. Attention hound that he is._ I sighed and took his hand.

"Oh, alright." He squeezed hard enough that it hurt, then let go.

"Alright. You don't have to sound so excited about it. Now, let's get out of here." I arched my brow at him, quizzically.

"I'm taking you back to the portal."

"But I already know…"

"I don't care what you know. You have to make sure no one sees you. You're not coming in or going out of this place without me, you understand? This is my city, and I control who get to come in and out of it. Capiche?" I nodded, looking away from his fierce red eyes.

"When I need you again, I'll come and find you." He growled. I nodded again, a bit hesitantly. GREAT. That sounded like loads of fun. Couldn't wait to see what would happen next.


End file.
